


Crisis Of the Self

by Lupo (LupoLight)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Gavin Reed-centric, Hurt Gavin Reed, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Medication, Other, Smoking, Two Endings, identity crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25123261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LupoLight/pseuds/Lupo
Summary: For the New Era 2nd Anniversary theme: IdentityAnother fight with Nines has Gavin questioning who he has become. Who he really is, behind the self-made capsule prison he put himself into.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37
Collections: New ERA Discord: Reverse Big Bang





	1. Main Part

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Adsdragonlover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adsdragonlover/gifts).



> So much love to my artist and my beta-reader adsdragonlover! You know I love hurting this boy, and I can't believe we paired together again xD
> 
> This was a wonderful idea and you are such a good artist!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Check out the instagram post to my artist's work here! Thank you again ads!!! ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CCW7SjEDMCP/)

  
  
“ _Yeah, and who are_ **you** _, detective?_ ”

The question shouldn’t have hit as hard as it did. Maybe it was the rain, the melancholy droplets beating against the windows all day. Against the side of the car. They had another fight, and Gavin unfortunately remembered why. It wasn’t an uncommon one- Nines was on him about smoking in the car again. It wasn’t like he subjected the guy to the smoke, the window was cracked and he ashed out the corner of it. 

  
  


Nines still, in that overly exhausted tone from scolding Gavin so many times over and over again, simply pressed that it was bothersome to deal with the smoke.

‘ _Like having it in my lungs is any better, asshole,_ ’ was the next comment, Gavin thought, and then they fought. It’s why he escaped to the bathroom, a moment of silence. Not even the sound of rain permeated this far into the bullpen, and it was completely quiet. He had planned to just come in, splash some water on his face, and deal with the hour left of his shift he had. 

  
  


But as it always was, something stopped him, and not for the first time, it was himself. His reflection in the mirror.

Gavin knew he looked like shit, but with always having work to do, he never paid much mind to it. There were deep bags under his eyes, a harsh edge to them that not even eyeliner on his best days could get rid of. The stubble was a bit stronger, Gavin had to avoid shaving these past couple days.

  
  


It wasn’t that he had _done_ something like that, but the thoughts were a bit- stronger, lately. Nothing to be worried about, waves like this came and went. The medication helped balance it, but it couldn’t balance a bad case and stress from not being able to solve it as quickly. It wasn’t like he was helping it either, he hadn’t slept as much, pulling an all-night the night before last, and then only getting around eight hours, in total, since.

But they were close to solving this case, so Gavin let it go. Just no shaving, he didn’t grow a beard as fast as Anderson, so he could be a couple days late.

“ _Yeah, and who are_ **you** _, detective?_ ”

  
  


Gavin sighed, body sagging against the sinks as he thought over the question again. He had- said something he regretted, of course. “ _You’re not a nanny bot, and you barely have yourself figured out, so how about you focus on that instead of trying to correct me, R-K-900._ ” It was just him lashing out. Pushing away what probably was genuine concern, and Gavin wasn’t even sure why. He entirely deserved the question after, and the silence his lack of response had caused too.

The fact of it was, Gavin- wasn’t sure he knew that answer anymore. Looking at his reflection, bone-tired grey eyes darker than storm clouds glaring back at him, he wasn’t sure when he lost himself.

  
  


The pack of cigarettes in his pocket weren’t always there. That wasn’t always a part of Gavin Reed. It was a bad habit he picked up after his first partner died, the funeral- he was offered one. It wasn’t that hard to remember that day, that was the first time he ever smoked, beside his dead partner’s brother. It was a hard habit to kick once started- a crutch to fall back on that first few months after that just… Stuck.

And it wasn’t like he wasn’t _trying_ to quit. After Nines had said about it the first time, when he was still just ‘ _plastic prick_ ’ and not the partner he got used to, he did try. To be fair, he was down to three a day, from his normal pack a day. But sometimes it still caused fights, it wasn’t something he could quit cold turkey, he tried before.

  
  


It wasn’t him- or, at least, it wasn’t always him. Neither were the bags under his eyes. He used to sleep well. Sure, a case would come and stubbornly he’d refuse to rest, wanting to solve it first and foremost. Only, what, the past six years, he doesn’t want to make the correlation his brain screamed at him and so he ignored it, eyes closing.

Neither was the medication. The same time, the same stress, the same result. Who _was_ he- surely, he wasn’t the guy he wanted to be anymore.

  
  


It was the door opening that startled Gavin, eyes flicking away from the mirror. Easily, he pushed away from it, running the water and reaching for soap. “Hey Reed,” Miller’s voice, familiar, _should be comforting_ , sounded out, heading for one of the urinals. “Pissed off your partner again huh?”

“When fucking don’t I- his buttons might as well be bright, red, and flashing for how well I push them.” That got a laugh, and rinsing off his hands, knowing he came in here for anything else than his sad reflection, he became eager to leave the restroom.

  
  


He wasn’t surprised that Nines didn’t talk much to him, ignoring him or only speaking when he absolutely had to, for the case. Even Hank and Connor gave him a wide berth, keeping away from them both. He wondered what Nines told them- he wondered when he stopped caring.

The thought remained with him, that he did, at some point, stop caring. Not about the job, that, at least, was part of himself he knew. Always had been that, good at his job, willing to do whatever it took. No, it bothered him, that he couldn’t figure out when he stopped caring about not being alone.

Sure, he had Tina and Chris, and arguably, Nines too, when he didn’t become the guy part of him didn’t even recognize. But he knew, at some point, he wanted others to like him too. Anderson and Fowler- he could remember, so clearly, wanting their praise. He wanted to be a good detective and impress them both, feel like he earned this badge.

  
  


There was a lot he didn’t remember, only the desperate climb to the top that was still leagues out of his reach, despite the work he put in. But now he was alone. No one wanted to be near him. He chased everyone away, forced himself into a corner and stood in it, yelling for others to get away. He couldn’t be surprised they listened either, but part of him- part of him hated that.

If he was like Hank, would he have Wilson and Person sitting by his desk, talking casually about a game coming up as Connor chimed in? He closed his eyes again, trying to keep out of those thoughts. They weren’t any good, he couldn’t change. He couldn’t remember who he was before this, before he needed help to just exist.

  
  


“Have a good evening, Detective Reed.” The voice dragged him out of his head, looking up to Nines. No Cyberlife coat, he stopped wearing that a month in. He was smart, could tell Gavin had- issues- with that company. He also did too, and Gavin _could_ remember taking the giant clothes shopping. Sure, Nines stuck out in a crowd still, but he seemed more like himself.   
  
Gavin waved. His voice still was pissed, Nines’ was getting a lot better at expressing that in his tone. ‘ _You piss him off enough_.’ Gavin sucked in a deep breath, standing up and gathering his things. A badge, a gun, a lighter. When boiled down, it was really the outside of him that everyone always saw that he packed up each day.

  
  


Again, the thought came to him- _why was it so bad to let people in?_ Gavin couldn’t remember the last time he just hung out. With Tina and Chris, or his brother- anyone. It hurt. He sighed, and walked out, pulling his hood up on his coat as the rain outside was coming down harder than he remembered.

  
  


The ride home was quiet, Gavin not really in the mood to listen to much. A sign? Probably, but in the end, it was his fault for chasing this thought train. His fault for snapping at Nines. Even in the rearview mirror he couldn’t recognize himself. Sure, the same face, but- he swore those weren’t the same eyes. He had this car since graduating academy, and he could remember his eyes being so much- more.

Looking back to the road offered a short peace from his thoughts, his place not too far from the precinct. He could walk here on better days, but today wasn’t one of them. He felt a rumble of thunder as he got out, and groaned. ‘ _Another long night_.’ It wasn’t that storms bothered him, he just never slept well during them. And he could vaguely recall Nines telling him these storms would last all night.

  
  


He dragged himself into the building, eventually making his way up to his apartment. He was so glad to see his cat, the orange bengal rubbing against his legs as soon as he got into the living room. Things in a bowl, gun in a pin-locked drawer under it, he moved into the rest of the house.

It was routine then. He got home around seven, so he’d strip, throw on some shorts, and work out for an hour. It worked out any pent up energy, and while one part of him felt exhausted after the thoughts running him mad, another urged him to move. To be productive.

He wondered if that was the capsule or his own will talking. 

  
  


After working, it was time for a smoke break. Normally his third cigarette of the day, today- his fifth? Sixth? At some point, Gavin lost count. It wasn’t even that it was many, he still had five left from a pack missing two, but it was more than usual. He hated that he slipped up.

Leaning on the balcony, lightning crackled over the sky, the rumble following several seconds after. A storm barely there. The rain wasn’t sideways, so besides the few stray drops, Gavin stayed mostly dry. The cigarette normally let his mind cool off, blank, just for a bit. Nothing to think of but the slow intake of smoke and the slower exhale.

  
  


His mind was anything but slow. Not even exercising ceased the thoughts. He was trying to _remember_ who he _was_ . He knew he couldn’t understand who he _is_ without remembering who he was. Even now, looking out to the city, he recalled being a kid. He never was into heroes that flew around, saving the day every single time without a single problem or care in the world. Realistic, he was called, as he watched shows of cops and firefighters, and mimicked them. 

Even as he grew up, and _met_ his heroes, that want to _be_ one didn’t stop. It took the whole cigarette to realize that, maybe, that was a part of him that was still there. The only part of him still there, probably. He flicked the butt into a trashcan he had on the balcony and walked back in.

  
  


He had a routine after all. He went into the kitchen, pausing to pet Frumpkin, the cat now laying on the arm of the couch. There wasn’t much in the kitchen, sticky note after note to get something on the fridge. He needed to go shopping, but eating wasn’t always a high priority. _Should_ be but he had other things to think about lately. He made do though, getting a salad together and finding a can of chick peas and some ham cubes to put in the salad.

Of course, it was as he was going to sit down, blank out, that the tv cut out, as well as the power to the whole building. He groaned, pressing a palm to his temple. The salad was still finished, because he wasn’t letting Frumpkin get his food. The little shit had his own food, thank you.

  
  


When the bowl was finished, he took it out, setting it in the sink. There wasn’t much in the sink, Gavin kept his place clean, and for a moment he wondered if that was an always thing, or just another change he never noticed. Surely, all the changes couldn’t be bad, right? He shook his head, pretty sure it was an always thing, and moved on to find a flashlight. Once he got one out, he went around the apartment, glad for the dying lowlight of the day pouring in from the balcony. Sure, it was dim, broken by the occasional flash of lightning, but it was enough to get to the door and close it, make sure the windows were closed too.

He moved to the bathroom, needing to keep to his routine. Flashlight beam hitting below the mirror, he paused for the second time that day.

  
  


In the precinct, the lighting was clear. Imperfections like glaring reminders that he had fallen, strayed so far from his childhood dream. Strayed so far from that Gavin at the academy, the one that promised Tina they’d both get medals for being heroes. The one that promised the world to give his best.

In the darkness of his own home, his own mind, now imperfections blended, melted into one picture. One sad picture of a man who didn’t know who he was anymore. A picture of a man, trapped inside a capsule, where cigarettes were cell bars and he wouldn’t get past either. His stubble was much more pronounced, hell, now almost a light beard.

  
  


And despite how he felt, even in that moment, he hated it. It wasn’t there because he thought it would be cool, it was there because he gave up. Gavin Reed was _not_ a quitter. He didn’t want to be, anyways. With the flashlight propped on the towel hanging rack, he started to carefully buzz away the hairs, rubbing at his face when he was done. The stubble back to it’s controlled clipped stubs, he sighed. 

This still wasn’t the Reed he remembered running around the precinct, just an officer with big dreams, but it was him. The medicine cabinet was opened behind the mirror and he reached in for the bottles, taking one pill from each of them.

  
  


He was glad he could take them dry after years of experience. They went down, and he got out the water bottle he kept in there to brush his teeth real quick. The next crack of lightning was louder, the thunder a few seconds after. Deep and resonating, and Gavin wondered just what everyone was doing without him.

It was that thought that opened the door to worse ones.

The truth was, they were doing fine. Gavin could stay here for days, sink into his bed, into a cycle of wake up, move, bathroom, sleep, and the world would continue without him. Nines would likely be happier, and he’d have to yell less, worry less. Tina? She’d find another friend, if not Chris or Stacey, that receptionist with the cool haircut. In time he’d just be that one friend she only talked about in passing.

  
  


“No.” His voice was more a croak, and he took deep breaths, forcing himself out of that headspace. Another crackle of lightning followed immediately by thunder, and in the distance, his room he remembered, his police scanner kicked on with the warning tone from the weather alert. Ironically late, if the wind was anything to go by.

He pushed away from the mirror, taking the flashlight to go find candles to light. Frumpkin still slept, undisturbed by the storm. Candles flickered to life under his lighter, Gavin smiling ruefully at the fact the stupid trouble making object came in handy at then. Sure, it wasn’t enough to chase away the lingering pain from the brief thoughts that wormed their way in, but it was enough to at least let him be productive. 

  
  


Candles on the coffee table, he sat back on the couch, pulling a knee to his chest and holding on. He didn’t really have hardcover books, too busy to read much anyways, and his biggest destressors he couldn’t indulge in without power. He pulled out his phone, thinking briefly of- messaging anyone. Just to not be alone.

In the end though, being a bother would be worse. He sat the phone back down, the other knee joining it’s opposite against his chest.

  
  


Who _was_ Gavin Reed? An asshole, obviously, his scoff not nearly loud enough to wake his cat. Hell, thunder wasn’t waking the furry bastard. But he focused on the question again.

Who was _he?_ An asshole. Alright. He was also a good detective- he wasn’t going to budge on that. Sure, he smoked. Sure, he needed help getting through the days now. He wasn’t drinking, he wasn’t on drugs he wasn’t prescribed, and he wasn’t taking out his pain on himself. Things he _could_ have been doing, so easily.

  
  


And sure, he- he could stop being a dick to those who were trying to help. Gavin knew that, knew that it wasn’t fair to push others away, afraid to let anyone in. To let anyone realize what he did long before now- that he wasn’t nearly as strong as he tried to be. That he wasn’t the hero he promised a child in a mirror that he’d be when he got his first badge. He left that kid with a shiny piece of medal and sure, he’s done good with it, but it’s an unfulfilled promise nonetheless.

So Gavin Reed was a mess, was what he got down when the wind knocked a planter from above his apartment onto his balcony. Checking the time, he never realized it was closer to midnight than he thought. The crash had him and Frumpkin jumping, and he called out to the startled cat.


	2. Somber

Holding him, Gavin sighed, feeling the dents his fingers left in his skin. He wasn’t- he wasn’t a bad guy. He couldn’t be. He’d have given up long if he had. But he could- he could accept he wasn’t a good guy.

A good guy wouldn’t treat his partner like shit for trying to help him. A good guy wouldn’t push away everyone, wouldn’t step on them if they were in his way, wouldn’t hurt everyone that got too close. If he was a good guy, he wouldn’t be wondering how his friends would be without him.

  
  


But he’s not a bad guy either. So that just meant, Gavin Reed was just a guy. The thoughts seemed to slow at that, and he felt his cat leave him. Who was he- he was a guy. A guy, doing his best to survive, without getting hurt again. He could change, that is what he should do, but right now, he’s only realizing that he’d changed  _ now. _

There was no point in pointing fingers either. He knew when one habit started, he knew when another problem developed, but it’s not- anyone’s fault. Maybe his, for letting both problems build until they collapsed over him like tidal waves. He couldn’t blame his dead partner for his smoking, for his moment of weakness and every following one since then.

And he couldn’t blame Fowler for putting more pressure on him when Anderson slipped. He  _ definitely _ couldn’t blame Anderson for grieving. He couldn’t blame work for his dedication to be the best, to do his best, even at the cost of his own sanity. He just had to accept that shit happened, and maybe Anderson didn’t realize yet, what happened when an idol, a hero, fell from the sky. But it wasn’t his fault.

  
  


Gavin eventually uncurled, moving to grab the cigarette pack from the table. ‘ _ Four left _ ’, he dragged one out, another hour having passed in silence. He made a quick detour to move his scanner to the living room, wanting some noise to keep himself buoyed in reality. Damage reports from fallen trees and flung shingles were being called in, but it was all background noise.

Stepping out onto the balcony, the rain was definitely sideways now. He hovered closer to the sliding door, lighting his cigarette with a hand cupped around it. He walked to the railing only when the smoke was lit, taking a drag as he leaned on the railing. Rain was pelting him, cold, but grounding, and lightning still crackled overhead.

  
  


“ _ Yeah, and who are  _ **you** _ , detective? _ ”

He was just that, he decided. A detective. He wasn’t a bad guy, and he wasn’t a good guy. Maybe he’d change one day, be someone he wanted to recognize. Be someone who would be missed. But as he watched the storm roll, the last smoke of the night being exhaled and swept with the wind, he realized like it, it would be hard. He was smoke fighting a steady wind of past mistakes, and maybe he’d just disappear.

Or maybe he’d linger like the smoke on his clothes. He couldn’t focus on the future now, but he could try to be better. Or at least take that last step and stop smoking.

While he felt trapped by that which was supposed to help him, he knew like the storm, it too would pass. And he rubbed the butt out on wet metal before returning into the apartment, a soft mewl greeting him.

  
  


He knew who he was, what his identity was, and he could change, like he had before. Maybe one day, he’d forget this version of himself too, like he forgot his kid self, and the young officer too. Maybe. He was Gavin Reed, and that’s all he needed to be right now.


	3. Hopeful

The cat came to him, and Gavin held him close, trying to focus on comforting them both. Sure, Gavin wasn’t a good guy, but there had to be a reason his friends stayed. Looking to his phone again, he inhaled sharply, seeing the photo of Tina and him. 

  
  


It was just a photo of them, hanging out in a bar, two drinks behind them. Halloween decorations around the bar, Gavin remembered when it was that the moment was captured. Yeah, if he was a bad guy, he wouldn’t have a friend like this. He wouldn’t have the memory of Chris and Tina, singing bad karaoke of his favorite songs, dragging him in when he had enough drinks to stop caring.

The thoughts calmed him, somewhat, and he held Frumpkin closer to his chest. Chasing away the shaking, unsettled feelings with memories of his friends, the very few he had.

  
  


It worked, for a bit. Of course, he did think on why he only had those two for friends. Why he pushed everyone away, too afraid to be hurt again, or to hurt others. Gavin knew- knew he was reckless. Self-sacrificing, a dumbass in many senses. He thought to what he could do better, what he  _ should _ do better. He hated who he had become, but he didn’t have to keep hating himself- he could change again,  _ right? _

_ When had he changed in the first place? _ That thought hit him like a freight train. He knew that smoking had started so long ago, but, he wasn’t always the way he was now. At one point, he had friends- a group of them. 

  
  


Then he had to be better. A desire to impress someone long gone, a want to be someone his superiors could count on, to be wanted in return, and a need to prove his own family wrong, to be more than just a trouble making kid that wasn’t as good as other kids in their eyes. A dream, to be a hero, even if it meant stepping on a few toes- a few heads- in the process.

In the end, he didn’t feel like a hero. He felt like what he was called. An asshole. A rat. 

  
  


Another crack of lightning pushed him out of that thought, and he looked to the balcony. A raging storm, that soon would pass, and the lights would come on again. That’s what this was, just a storm. Sure, Gavin- was more unsure than he ever had been. He realized the dream he had, that the little kid he was at some point, had died, and he couldn’t remember himself any longer. And he didn’t know who he was now, who he was before now, but he knew who he could be.

  
  


He knew what the apartment looked like when the storm passed. It was just getting past the storm that was his challenge. He looked to the smokes on the table, tempted, again, to grab one, just to settle the unrest in his being. But then a soft knocking startled him so bad that Frumpkin mewled in protest at the sudden squeeze.

“Detective Re- Gavin?”

  
  


Gavin blinked, hearing an all too familiar voice. Setting Frumpkin down, he wiped his hands off on his shorts before wiping off his face, unsure of when it got wet and not wanting to think too hard on that anyways. He was aware of only wearing shorts, of not having showered, of barely having ate. So many things Nines would find  _ wrong _ with him.

The door swung open after he unlocked it, meeting blue eyes highlighted by a yellow LED. “What are you doing here?” He tried for aggressive, despite spending the whole night scolding himself on doing just that. But it was habit now, like cigarettes, like self doubt. It was only his own tiredness, his own weariness, that took the bite out of his words.

  
  


Nines just- looked at him for a moment. Gavin wondered if he could see every insecurity like this, if Gavin was like reading a book to him in this light. If he was, Nines said nothing to that, instead letting his LED melt to blue. 

“My apartment complex is- noisy, with the power outages. And you mentioned that everyone is pretty quiet, so I was hoping I could come over here and… Escape the noise? I messaged you several times and you didn’t respond, so I- shown up.” Nines sounded sheepish about that, looking away, his blue eyes catching the light like a cat’s and reflecting it back.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Shoes off at the door.” Gavin moved away, waving his hand to the other. He went to the couch, picking up his phone. It was nearing two in the morning, and Gavin couldn’t help but be amused at the idea of a bunch of androids losing their collective shit at suddenly not charging. Hopefully the outage wouldn’t go on for too long. 

  
  


He checked the messages, frowning as he got through them. All from Nines.   
[ _ Detective Reed, may I stop over? My place lost power and everyone is awake because of it. _ ]

[ _ Detective Reed, are you still awake? You said you normally are up until four. _ ]

[ _ Detective? Is everything alright? Is this the ‘silent treatment’ I’ve heard of? _ ]

[ _ Gavin, seriously, answer please. A simple yes or no, to any of my questions. _ ]

[ _ Gavin? _ ]

  
  


“Jeez, you know, what if I got to sleep early? Or was out with a guy?” Nines scoffed from behind him, walking in like he knew the place by heart. Gavin didn’t have the heart to remind him this was his first time being there.

“You, out on a work night, in a storm like this? You love your job too much detective, you wouldn’t do something that stupid.” Gavin pouted at that, and sat down, curling up on the couch. “And you’ve mentioned, repeatedly, having problems falling asleep. I didn't think the storm would help you any, especially one as bad as this.”

“It’s bad out there?”

“Horrendous. Limbs on the roads, power outages, and the river is becoming a hassle. I wouldn’t be too surprised if we’re called in just to standby at the station and help out.” Gavin sighed to that, and felt the couch dip beside him. “So, why didn’t you answer?”

  
  


It took Gavin a moment before he realized Nines was talking about the texts. And he wasn’t sure how to respond. ‘ _ Oh, because I was in the middle of an identity crisis in which I realized I’m a shit human being and can’t be anything more, _ ’ seemed like way too much. “Had a lot on my mind,” is what he chose instead, shrugging his shoulders.

“Why’d you get in such a twist? It’s not like I couldn’t have been giving you the silent treatment. It’s not like you should be worried about me.” The words were too similar to how he felt earlier, biting at himself, tearing holes he couldn’t fill.

  
  


He expected some quip back, but was greeted with silence. Looking over, he could see the red glow of Nines’ LED, highlighting blue eyes and making them a haunting shade of ice. “Gavin, you are many things. Quiet, is not one of them. Especially when you didn’t even tell Officer Chen goodbye. So… I was, maybe, a bit worried, upon retrospection…” Nines looked like he expected Gavin to be a little shit, with a raised eyebrow and an expression that screamed ‘ _ go on then _ ’.

But Gavin couldn’t find it in himself to be like that. He was confused why Nines would give a shit, especially after how he was. “Let me state again, you  _ shouldn’t _ be worried about me tincan. I was a dick to you, like always… Why…” Gavin shut up, eyebrows furrowed as he turned to look out the balcony. 

  
  


“Why what Gavin? You were no different than how you normally are- sure we fought but… I didn’t think these fights affected you too much. You seem to just be the confrontational type.” Gavin winced, and he didn’t need to be facing the other to know he saw it.

“Confrontational is a nice way to put it. Just call me a dick and we can get past this.” Another streak of lightning temporarily lit up the room, Frumpkin no where to be seen now.

“Gavin, while it’s true that you can be an asshole, I didn’t drive all the way over here just to point that out… What’s got you upset?”

  
  


Gavin turned, trying to become hostile, to keep Nines away. But then Nines was right there, closer, eyes hard set and-  _ concerned _ . He hated it, hated knowing that he was only a dick to a guy that was trying to help. “I’m not upset, I’m just-”

“Gavin Noah Reed, don’t lie to me. I saw the tear tracks on your face when you opened the door. Please- quit pushing me away. I am your partner, and I’m only trying to-”   
  
“I don’t know who I am!” The yell was louder than he wanted it to be, the silence disturbed as he got up, grabbing the pack of smokes. Four left, of course. He could just throw this pack away, be done with smoking. But right now, habits gripped him, and he wanted nothing more than to embrace them. Anything other than the confession he felt echoing between them.

  
  


“You asked me, who I am. Because I told you to find yourself. And I don’t even remember who I used to be before-  _ this! _ ” He threw the cigarettes on the couch, hands coming up to clutch at his hair instead. “And I’ve been asking myself all fucking night-  _ who am I _ \- to have some semblance of a fucking answer to shoot back the next time we have a fight. And all I can figure out- is that I’m a fucking asshole who shouldn’t have the friends I do.”

  
  


He walked two steps before a hand gripped his arm, not tugging, just holding. “ _ Gavin _ .” The voice was so upset, and Gavin couldn’t help but aim a weak smile back to him, his other hand falling from his head.

“You should just- ignore me. Hate me, it’ll be so much easier for you, you know. Why  _ haven’t _ you given up?” Nines’ LED was red now, and Gavin would be terrified if he wasn’t so confused.

“Because, underneath being an asshole in an attempt to keep everyone away, you are a very intelligent detective. A man who cares about his job, and cares about helping people. You treat victims with kindness, offering them the coat off your back, having care kits no one else would think to have. You treat suspects with a level head, and are remarkable in interrogation rooms when it comes to humans, and you’re only getting better at being able to get androids to open up.”

  
  


Nines spoke like it was obvious, what he was saying, but Gavin couldn’t believe him. “I’m only doing what any officer half his worth would do.”

“No. You go above and beyond, overworking yourself to see a case closed, and extending a hand as far as you can without exposing yourself. Gavin, I am sincerely sorry that I keep pushing you, but understand- I… I don’t want to lose a partner I truly like having around. And I’m afraid I will. You are more than just- a smoking asshole detective. You are my  _ friend _ Gavin.”

  
  


Nines let go of his arm then, and it simply fell. Lightning still crackled through the sky, but far off. The first wave of a storm settling into a lull, only to hear warnings of another wave coming in. “You have a shit choice in friends Nines.” His voice was tired, low and defeated. It wasn’t like he was going to believe every word he said right then, but being told he was  _ more _ , after spending the night convincing himself he wasn’t  _ anything _ but the two-dimensional jackass he was known for… It was a lot.

“I’ve been told that before, but they’re my friends. I have every right to choose you, and I’m not going to change that. Deal with it, Gavin.”

It was a couple moments before they settled back on the couch. “You know, I’ve been trying to quit.”

  
  


The question took Nines off guard, he could tell, and he motioned to the smokes between them. “Used to smoke a pack a day. Was only smoking three a day until, well, today.”

“Habits are… Hard to break. I won’t lie and pretend to understand it, but is there a way I can help?” Gavin hummed, and then smiled, looking over to Nines. In the candlelight, he looked so much more warm.

Nines knew who he was, and knew who Gavin could become. And maybe, maybe he could let someone else take the lead, and just follow him. “Remember when you first caught me smoking? And you took that damned stick out of my mouth and crushed it in your hand?”

“Of course. You tried to punch me for that.”

  
  


Gavin let out a laugh at that. “Yeah I did, and you caught my fist and pinned it to the wall. But anyways- just… I’ll try going cold turkey.”

“What does food have to do with this?” That got a snort out of Gavin.

“It’s a phrase dipshit. It means to suddenly quit, and I’ve been slowing down but I’m just- I’m just going to stop. I’m gonna become a royal bitch.”

“That’s fine, I can handle you.” 

  
  


Gavin let out another huff, getting up to toss the last four into the trashcan. As he did, the lights buzzed back on. “Cool, one street out of how many on?”

“Is that-”

“Rhetorical, Nines, rhetorical.”   
  
“Right,” Gavin walked back to see Frumpkin strutting out of his room, approaching the stranger carefully. He couldn’t observe the too for long, as his phone started to ring. “Who the fuck-”

“Captain Fowler. He messaged me as well- seems we’re wanted for traffic detail.” If Nines was phased by the loud groan Gavin let out, he didn’t show it.

“I’ll go put on clothes then.”

“That would be wise.” Gavin flipped Nines off for that comment.

  
  


As he dragged a shirt over his head, he caught himself in the mirror. Bags under his eyes, stubble on his face, little red dots on his cheeks from being rubbed. And a slight grin, nothing vicious or cruel to it. Just a slight upturn of his lips, from being  _ genuinely _ happy.

He knew who he was, what his identity was, and he could change, like he had before. He wasn’t alone in this, and while he couldn’t entirely remember who he was before all this, he didn’t think it was that bad of a thing anymore. He just had to keep moving, keep going forward. “Come on Detective Reed, we don’t have all night! Another wave is coming.”

  
  


He  _ is _ Detective Gavin Reed. And that’s all he needs to be.

“Yeah yeah, don’t get your tits in a twist tincan, I’m coming.”


End file.
